


Walk of Shame

by iscatterthemintimeandspace



Series: Convention Prompts Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, the morning after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2948144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iscatterthemintimeandspace/pseuds/iscatterthemintimeandspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on: </p><p>Jared: I ended up crashing on Richard's couch pull out bed because I didn't want to go all the way back to my hotel. So I wake up in the morning and I'm like " Trickster, in his underwear, in my room? Is this an episode of supernatural?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[](http://smg.photobucket.com/user/Siralop/media/walk%20of%20shame.jpg.html)

Sam Winchester woke up with the sun streaming through the shades and into his face. He rolled over, pulling the covers up over his head to try and block the light. The hunter had a pounding headache, his blood throbbing at his temples. 

Barely cracking his eyes open, he took a perfunctory glance at the room around him, and noticing a glass of water and pills on the bedside table, he reached for them , stuffing them unceremoniously into his mouth and downing the gloriously cold liquid, spilling half of it down his chest in his carelessness. 

Sam stilled as the water ran down his stomach. Why wasn’t he wearing a shirt? He always went to bed with a shirt on. Where had the water and pills even come from? Dean would never be that nice. 

Groaning, Sam sat up, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn’t his room. It was too clean and nice to be anything he and Dean would stay in. He had been lying on a pull-out couch. The clothing he had been wearing last night was neatly folded on an armchair next to a TV.

The living room’s arch opened to a small kitchenette, complete with a counter and bar stools. There were beer and liquor bottles littering the counter, shot glasses and lime wedges, and an overturned salt shaker. Memories of the night came back to Sam in snippets, and he began trying to piece the night together from there. 

He, Dean and Cas had started out at their motel and had gone to the local bar to hustle some pool. It had devolved into a drinking contest, as it always seemed to lately. He’d gotten roped into a bet with Dean and some women sitting at the next table about who could drink more. The rest of the night had gone downhill from there. He blacked around the ninth or tenth shot of whiskey. 

There were flashes of memory that didn’t fit anywhere, the taste of chocolate, his butt repeatedly being pinched and golden-brown eyes. He supposed it could have been one of the women, although he didn’t remember much about what they’d looked like. 

Unexpectedly, he heard a humming coming from the bedroom, muffled and off-key. Sam lay back down, throwing the blankets over his head, with his face only just peeking out. The door opened and the humming got louder, as the room’s occupant sauntered out to start making coffee. 

Sam’s eyes almost bulged out of his head. There, endearingly humming, was the former trickster, the archangel Sam knew as Gabriel. Gabriel, who had once forced him to live years of torturous Tuesdays, was dumping ground coffee into the motel coffee machine, dancing along to his own tune, in his skivvies… and nothing else. 

Sam felt his heart thumping hard against his ribcage. The trickster was in his underwear, very tight black boxer briefs, if he wanted to be precise (and he really did).

Suddenly the pieces of his night that didn’t seem to fit anywhere snapped into place. The archangel had golden eyes, wonderfully expressive golden eyes, and gorgeous lips that tasted of chocolate.

Shit. 

Sam swallowed. Gabriel. He’d gone home with Gabriel. 

Double shit. 

He wished for once he could be like Dean, just pull the covers over his head, pretend to be asleep until Gabriel went away and he could creep out, but he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the angel, currently shaking his butt and dancing around the small kitchen. He had begun to make breakfast, scrambling eggs and putting bacon in a pan to fry. 

The hunter's eyes followed shamelessly as he watched Gabriel pour the eggs into a pan and begin to clean off the counter. As he turned, Sam knew he was sunk. 

The angel was sporting an impressive erection, every curve and line clearly outlined by his tight boxers. They were practically painted on, and Sam knew he had to get out of here before his body gave him away.

The younger Winchester shifted in bed as if he was just waking up, stretching his long limbs languidly, groaning loudly. He heard Gabriel stop as he sat up slowly, running his hand through his hair. 

“How ya feeling there, Sasquatch?” Gabriel asked, pulling the eggs and bacon off the heat. 

Sam blinked a couple times at him as if clearing his eyes from sleep. “What happened last night?” he mumbled, sliding to the edge of the bed.

Gabriel chuckled, his laughter as clear and bright as early morning sunlight. “You chuckleheads got yourselves into a spot of trouble last night.”

“We don't get into trouble, trouble finds us,” Sam snarked back, attempted to stand up and realized too late he was completely naked. He scrambled as the sheet tumbled onto the floor, leaving him crouched, his face as red as a beet .

He watched Gabriel's eyes widen, and the angel flushed, staining his face and neck with a rose colored blush. He scampered from the room, leaving Sam standing awkwardly with his sheet clutched around him. Gabriel walked back in, dragging something shiny with him. He held it out to Sam, a grin stretching his face. 

"Put it on." He commanded gently, mischief dancing in his golden eyes. "You're very distracting." 

Sam all but snatched the thing from his hand. It turned out to be a robe, a satin, leopard print robe. Very Gabriel. The hunter shrugged into the monstrosity, laughing to himself. It barely fit him, being Gabriel-sized, and it stretched tight across his back, hanging several inches above his ankles. He turned to look down at the angel, to make some snappy retort and his attention was riveted by the darkening love mark at the junction of Gabriel’s shoulder and neck.

Triple shit.

"Looks good on you, Sammich. You should wear my clothes more often." the archangel smirked. 

Sam's eyes widened and blush spread over his face. What had happened last night? Is that why he was naked? But then why was he on the couch?

Gabriel was looking at him in amusement, hands planted suggestively on his waist. 

Sam swallowed several times before being able to speak. He couldn't stop staring.

“Is that...?” He trailed off in a moment of panic. “Did I… ? Did you...? Did we...?” he stumbled through his words as his face got redder and redder. 

The archangel chuckled, waggling an eyebrow at Sam. “Yes, yes, no and no,” he laughed. 

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, it's a hickey, yes it's from you, no, I didn't reciprocate and no, we didn't have sex, although you wanted to,” the archangel answered, his smirk lighting up his whole face. 

Sam opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Gabriel had said no? That wasn't like him. He'd only been trying to get in Sam's pants since they met. 

“Blacked out drunks aren't my type, to answer your question,” Gabriel said, turning to the counter and plating what he had cooked. “I like my partners consenting.” 

Warmth bloomed unexpectedly in Sam's chest as he watched the archangel set out two plates. 

“Now, are you staying for breakfast or not?” Gabriel asked, shaking his butt at Sam.

Sam smiled.

“I’d like that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got a couple request for more... so here you go!

**A couple hours earlier…**

“This is a bad idea, Dean,” Sam protested, casting a cautious glance at the women in the booth next to theirs. 

“Stop being such a bitch,” Dean replied. “This will be easy.”

“Jerk,” Sam shot back, still grumbling but also smiling. Even though he thought having a drinking contest was a bad idea, it wouldn’t hurt anyone , and besides, after all they’d been through the last couple weeks, they deserved to have a little fun. “Fine, alright! but I’m not cleaning up the car if either of you puke.” 

Dean looked over at Cas and then smirked back. “Deal,” He turned back around to the women and set about ordering shots. 

_I’m going to regret this,_ Sam thought as he watched the bartender pour out six shots of whiskey. _I am definitely going to regret this._

Eight shots later, the room was spinning around him, thanks in no small part to the copious amounts of liquor they’d drunk before even coming out. Sam was no lightweight, but even he was feeling it. Dean and Cas didn’t look much better. The angel was splayed out across the booth, tie undone, with his shirt unbuttoned all the way down to his belly button. Dean was currently laying across Cas’ lap, still valiantly taking shots. 

The women in the next booth had just left, even worse than they were. Through the bar's large window, Sam could see two of them helping the last one into a cab, conceding in their defeat to the hunters. 

Looking at his brother and the angel, Sam frowned. Stupid Dean, stupid Cas. He would never admit it, but looking at the two of them made him lonely, and he was downright sick of being their third wheel, always left awkwardly staring. Drunkenly, he wished for an angel of his own, one with gorgeous eyes and a nice butt. Well, he had one in mind specifically, really. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against the pleather back of the booth, humming gently to himself. 

When he opened them again, Sam was surprised to find the archangel Gabriel standing over them, surveying them with amusement. 

He wagged his eyebrows at Sam. “You rang, Gigantor?” 

Dean and Cas both looked at him questioningly, and Sam wanted to melt into the booth. “ No I didn’t,” he protested loudly, so loudly in fact that several other bar patrons stared at him. 

“Were you or were you not praying for a beautiful angel to call your own?” Gabriel challenged, crossing his arms smugly over his chest. 

Sam scowled. Stupid mind-reading dick with wings. Stupid gorgeous Gabriel and his stupid gorgeous eyes. “I was not.” 

The archangel looked over sarcastically at his brother. “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” 

Cas cocked his head at Gabriel. “Do not tease him, brother,” he commanded lightly, hiccupping. 

“Sorry!” Gabriel answered, emphasizing the last part of the word, his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “But since I’m already here, what’s say we have a real party?” 

That was how they had ended up at Gabriel’s motel room. Sam didn’t even know angels needed motels, but he wasn’t going to argue with him. After all his prior experience with one of the most powerful beings in the known universe, he had learned to let the little things go. 

Gabriel didn’t fail to disappoint on the party. As soon as they were settled, he had conjured up everything someone could possibly need and had set about making everyone as uncomfortable as he could. 

“So then, Dean-o, what are your intentions with my little brother this evening?” Gabriel interrogated, his lips curling up in a feral smirk. “Going to take him home and ravage him?” 

Dean turned bright red, stuttering out his protests. “ Listen, Gabriel... Cas and I... Me and Cas… We're... well...” 

“Were you gonna say “just friends”?” Gabriel air-quoted sardonically. “Because I think your “just friends” period passed about a year of eye-fucking ago.” 

Sam choked on his drink, spewing tequila all over the counter and his shirt. His brother's ears turned a brilliant scarlet as he glowered at the angel. Cas was also blushing furiously, looking hotly into his lap. Gabriel could not have looked more proud, smiling from ear to ear. Sam was actually kind of jealous. He had wanted to bring it up to Dean on more than one occasion and had never had the balls to. 

“Laugh it up, dick,” Dean shot back. Sam could almost feel the sass radiating off his brother's skin. “Now that we're having a girly sleep over moment, we gonna talk about your huge crush on my brother?” 

Sam froze. He did not want to talk about this, at all. 

“Dean, I don't think-” he began, shooting Dean a dangerous look. 

“Crushes by definition, Dean-o, are secret. It's not rocket science to figure out I want to do naughty things to your baby brother. I mean, it's not like I've told him or anything,” Gabriel retorted. “Oh wait, I have. Repeatedly.” 

In the background, Sam poured himself one, two, three shots of whiskey and downed them in rapid succession. He could not believe what has happening, and since it was already happening, he was going to try his hardest to not remember it. 

“Quiet now, aren’t we, Dean?” the archangel taunted, his golden eyes glinting madly. “Does it make you uncomfortable that I want Sammy’s big, rough hands on me? Or that I could fuck him six ways from Sunday until he can’t remember his own name? Or is what makes you uncomfortable the fact that he wants me to?”

Despite all the alcohol, Sam felt his entire face heating up like blacktop in July. He could feel three sets of eyes boring into him. He looked up sheepishly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He wanted to deny it, but why bother? It wasn’t like anyone else was going to remember it tomorrow either. 

Dean’s mouth was hanging open, his eyes darting between Sam and the former trickster. “I need brain bleach, I did not need to hear that,” he mumbled., reaching for the tequila bottle in his brother’s hand.

“That was tame compared to what I'm really thinking,” Gabriel teased back, snapping his fingers. “I could show you.” 

“Don't you dar-.” Dean growled back at him, shutting his eyes mid-sentence. He staggered to his feet drunkenly, his hands clutched over his eyes. “You dick! Cas, you give me your angel blade right now!” he yelled. 

Gabriel cackled loudly, falling ungracefully out of his seat and onto the floor. Clutching his stomach with one hand, he snapped his fingers again. 

Dean opened his eyes, glaring murderously at the archangel rolling on the floor. Sam almost broke a rib trying not to laugh at the trauma his brother must have gone through right now. He could only imagine the kinds of porn Gabriel had been playing in Dean's head. He caught Gabriel's eye and burst out laughing, tears streaming down his face. 

“It's not funny, Sam!” 

“Correction, it's not funny for you.” Sam shot back, enjoying every second of Dean's pain. 

“Give me the tequila, Sam,” Dean grumbled , clearly not amused with his brother at the moment. 

Sam held it out of his reach, using his long arms to taunt him. “Nope. You’re not hogging it. Time for shots! " he replied, trying to clear the air. It wasn't that he didn't love seeing Dean get a taste of his own medicine for once, he just didn't want to be cleaning Gabriel's blood off his shoes later. He poured four shots , placing the salt shaker and limes next to them. Sam sucked on the web between his thumb and pointer finger, covering it liberally with salt. Cas stared at him like he had three heads. 

“It’s a tequila shot, dude, it’s what you’re supposed to do,” Sam explained . Cas shrugged and followed suit, sprinkling more salt on the counter than his hand. Dean’s pupils widened watching the angel licking his hand experimentally between his fingers. Sam snorted to himself, he should have known this was going to happen. He had a feeling it was going to be an awkward night back at their room. 

Gabriel took the shaker next, licking his hand lewdly, his clever tongue darting out from between his lips. He stared at Sam, eyes twinkling with mischief, and the hunter felt a shiver travel down his spine. 

Sam looked down into his shot glass, feeling hot again. _You bastard,_ he thought. _You sexy, dirty bastard. That’s not fair._

 _Language, young man,_ Gabriel’s voice warned in his head. 

Sam hated that he could do that. _Get out of my head, Gabe,_ he commanded. 

_Touchy, touchy._ The angel’s voice laughed. _How long do you think it’s gonna take for these two be humping like bunnies?_

 _Out,_ Sam ordered again, a little more gently this time. _And I’m betting they’ll barely make it back to our room. I think I’m gonna have to get another room, thanks to you._

Gabriel’s face brightened. _I’ll take that bet, Samsquatch. And you can always stay here tonight._

Sam raised an eyebrow at Gabriel. Stay here? With him? He swallowed hard, trying not to think about what could happen if he let it. Instead, he grabbed a slice of lime and raised his glass. 

“To …” he faltered. 

“Brother-fucking,” Gabriel answered without missing a beat. 

Sam almost dropped his shot. Cas was choking down his laughter along with his tequila, having taken his shot too early. Dean put down his own shot and pounded the angel on the back hard. But Dean was smiling, a goofy inebriated expression all over his face. Gabriel smirked, clearly enjoying the attention, taking his own shot, and finishing off with the lime in his wicked mouth. 

Sam couldn’t help it, he grinned back at him shamelessly. The hunter licked his hand, tossed back the tequila and shoved the lime into his mouth, soothing the burn as it poured down his throat. By the time he looked up, Gabriel had already poured four more shots. 

_I am definitely going to regret this,_ Sam thought for the second time that evening. It wouldn’t be the last. 

 

~~~~~

Sam relaxed, sprawled boneless over the side of the sofa, watching Dean drunkenly maneuver an even drunker Cas out of the bathroom and on to the floor. 

“This is all your fault,” Dean accused Gabriel, who was currently lying across the other side of the couch, his feet on Sam’s lap.

“I didn’t force him, Deano,” Gabriel said smartly, his head lolling to the side. “Besides, stop pretending like this isn’t what you wanted. A little bit of liquid courage to lubricate your way out of the closet,” he laughed, and Sam would be damned if it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. 

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by a muffled voice from the floor. 

“I would like to go home now please,” Cas moaned from the floor, his eyes hazy and unfocused. 

Gabriel smirked. “I can arrange that.” 

“C’mon Sam, help with Cassss,” Dean slurred , lifting the angel up. 

“I’m gonna stay here, Dean,” Sam murmured back quietly, his head spinning. His answer surprised even him. 

Dean’s eyes widened at him. Sam knew they were going to have words tomorrow, but he found he didn’t care. 

“Have fun boys,” Gabriel teased, and with a snap of his fingers, both Dean and Cas were gone. 

“He gonna be pissed t’morrow ,” Sam said, the words thick like syrup on his intoxicated tongue. He let loose a low chuckle, and Gabriel brightened, looking at him like gold was pouring from his mouth. 

“He’ll be fine. He has Cas all to himself, all alone with just a little help from yours truly to set the mood.” The look on his face was positively devilish.

“You didn’t!”

“ I did. Nothing spectacular, just some candles, silk ties, strawberry flavored-lube…” 

Sam giggled, the kind of unrestrained laughter that only came with being extremely inebriated. “I’m so glad I decided to stay here then.” 

Gabriel’s face grew serious, and Sam didn’t like it. “Is that the only reason you stayed here, Sam?”

The use of his name sent shivers down Sam’s spine. Gabriel never called him by his name, it was always Sammich, or Samsquatch or some other derivative of his name, but never just Sam.

“Say it again,” he ordered gently, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. 

“What?” 

“My name. Say it again,” Sam commanded, leaning towards him. 

Gabriel swallowed, and Sam followed his Adam’s apple all the way down. “Sam.” 

His name slid off the angel’s tongue sinfully, and Sam couldn’t help himself. 

_I’m definitely going to regret this,_ he thought, pulling Gabriel up, flush against his lips. 

Gabriel melted against him, responding brilliantly to Sam’s motions. His hands were in Sam’s hair at once, silky locks twisted around his questing fingers. 

Sam knew he was sloppy, but he didn’t care. He could taste the liquor and chocolate in Gabriel’s mouth, and he wanted more. He mouthed Gabriel’s jaw, his lips coasting over skin and stubble. He lapped his way down the column of the angel’s neck, settling right above his collar bone. 

Gabriel keened under him, his hands tightening in Sam’s hair as he sucked kisses into his skin. He took small nips, savoring the clean taste of the angel’s skin.

“Sam,” he said suddenly. “Stop, stop.” His hands pushed Sam up and away until he was looking into Gabriel’s eyes. 

“I thought you wanted this,” Sam questioned slowly, sluggishly wondering what he’d done wrong. 

“I do, I want you,” Gabriel’s hand sought his, small fingers curling through Sam’s much larger ones. “But not like this. Not drunk, no regrets,” he mumbled, and Sam had the sneaking suspicion that Gabriel had been reading his mind again. 

“Okay.” Sam leaned back.

“Tomorrow, when you’re sober, if you still want this, I’m game, Sammy-boy.” They’re back to silly nicknames again. “But I won’t be anyone’s walk of shame.” 

Fluidly, the angel kissed Sam on the forehead, released his hand and got up. “Goodnight, Sammich,” he added, before padding slowly into the adjoined bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Sam was left staring after him once again, half-hard and drunk out of his mind. 

_I’m an idiot,_ he decided as he began to fold out the couch. He shimmied out of his clothing, getting trapped in his own shirt and tripping out of his pants, leaving them strewn across the rough carpet. Naked, Sam wrapped the sheets and blankets around him and fell into a drunken slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam leaned back, his belly full to bursting with eggs and bacon. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked breakfast. Normally, with Dean, if they even stopped for anything other than coffee, it was greasy, bland diner food. 

Gabriel was grinning at him over the rim of his coffee cup, golden eyes dancing with mischief. The look made Sam flush all the way down his neck and chest, something that wasn’t easy to hide when all he had on as Gabriel’s extremely small leopard print robe. 

So far over the course of the breakfast and their easy, meandering conversation , neither of them had mentioned what had occurred the night before. Bits and pieces were returning to Sam now, each detail teasing under his skin. His eyes kept coming back to the bruise on the archangel’s neck. 

Sam wondered what Gabriel would do if he kissed him right now. Had he made too much of an ass of himself last night? Would he reject him again? 

The hunter didn’t want to take the chance, to make Gabriel feel uncomfortable, or to overstay his welcome. He knew he should really get going, despite the niggling voice in his head that wanted him to stay. 

Gabriel began to clean up, grabbing Sam's plate and his own. Sam took that as his cue to leave but in a last ditch effort to stay longer, he attempted to help with the dishes. The archangel however, waved him off with a smile, spiriting off their empty cups into the sink. 

The hunter backed out of the small kitchen, stealing a peek at Gabriel's round bottom before moving to reluctantly gather his clothes. 

While the angel was washing the dishes, Sam ducked into the bathroom to wriggle into his cold clothing. He had a nasty feeling in his stomach as he dressed, almost regretting each article he pulled over his head. 

Gabriel frowned when he saw him finally leave the bathroom, but quickly put on his usual smile. “Ready to go, Sammich?” 

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Well... yeah... Dean's probably wondering where I am....”

“Not if he took advantage of my brother... and the accoutrements I so generously provided.” he answered with a flourish. 

The hunter laughed. He'd almost forgotten about Dean and Cas, and Gabriel's... er... gifts. He really hoped they'd have cleaned themselves up before he got home. 

“Thank you, for everything,” Sam said, remembering his manners as he ambled towards the door. 

“Don't mention it, Gigantor.” Gabriel followed him, still only dressed in his briefs. “Any time, and I mean that.” 

Sam leaned closer to the angel unconsciously, chewing at his lip, but turned to leave. 

Gabriel glanced up at him, his tone low and teasing. “Are you going to kiss me or not? I don't have all day, Sam.”

_His name._

Shivers went down the hunter's spine. Sam could hear each thump of his heart, each clipped breath that spilled over Gabriel's lips, each second that ticked by. 

He remembered the night before, what the sound of his name had done to him, and he didn't waste another second. 

Sam came crashing down on Gabriel like a tidal wave, drawing the archangel up against him in one fluid motion. Gabriel melted against him, his flesh warm under the hunter's fevered, questing fingers. His skin was extremely soft, lightly dusted with hair and spattered with freckles, and Sam wanted to taste every inch. 

His long arms wound around the former trickster's body, and Gabriel responded in kind, pulling Sam down roughly by his shirt lapels, breathing him in. The hunter could have drowned in the relief that flooded him, filling him at the surprising fact that Gabriel wanted him back. His apprehension of another rejection bled away, leaving nothing but a blinding burst of joy and his rapidly swelling arousal. 

Gabriel was clinging to him now as if his life depended on it and, with the angel’s bare chest pressed against him, Sam was sharply reminded of what Gabriel was and wasn't wearing. He took advantage of the angel’s nakedness, gripping his hips and pulling them sharply against him. 

Gabriel sucked in a harsh breath, already starting to pull the hunter's worn flannel jacket down his shoulders, but was stopped by Sam's arms around his waist. The archangel pouted, yanking at the offending cloth ineffectively.

Laughing, Sam dropped his hands, allowing himself to be swiftly undressed, his flannel quickly joined on the floor by his button- down and t-shirt. 

“Dear Dad, how many layers are you wearing, Samsquatch?!” Gabriel exclaimed, wrestling Sam's undershirt over his head. 

“That's the last one, I promise,” he smirked, finally skin to skin with the trickster. 

Gabriel growled at him playfully, pulling Sam's mouth down to meet his again, gripping hanks of the hunter's hair. 

Sam panted in to his mouth, the pressure on his head sending spikes of arousal spiraling down to his groin. The angel's hot hands trailed down his body heavily skimming his bare nipples, and the ridges of his abs. Gabriel fumbled with his pants , popping the button and inching the zipper down. 

The hunter pulled back. “Slow down, short stuff,” he laughed, cupping Gabriel's chin in his hand. “No need to rush.” 

The trickster's eyes narrowed a little at the nickname. “You forget what I am, Moose,” he murmured, before slowly cracking a smile. 

“How could I forget? True form the size of the Chrysler building?” Sam pulled him towards the rumpled pull- out bed in the center of the living room. 

Gabriel plopped down, dragging Sam down with him. “As if,” he feigned offense, his hands finding the hunter's hair again. “Cas is a mouse compared to me. Try Everest.” 

Sam gasped as Gabriel drew his head back, sucking at the juncture on his neck and jaw. The angel rolled Sam onto his back, straddling the hunter's hips, his jeans and boxers slipping down to expose his hip bones. 

Gabriel's clever hands were all over him in an instant, tugging and pinching, rubbing and caressing. Sam couldn't stop himself from bucking up against the angel, craving the friction. Gabriel growled, grinding down against him. His hands snaked over Sam's arms, pinning him to the bed. 

The hunter let out a strangled moan as the angel ground against him, holding Sam in place. None of Sam's previous partners had ever had the strength or foresight to hold him down. He was always the bigger one in every relationship, always afraid to hurt his partner but not this time. 

Sam was the one in a hurry now. Gabriel was taking his sweet time, slow open-mouthed kisses, lazy circles with his bottom tortuously skimming Sam's erection. The hunter was so hard it hurt, throbbing painfully with each beat of his heart. He tried to push up again, and Gabriel smirked.

“Slow down, Gigantor,” he whispered hotly in Sam's ear. “No need to rush.” 

Sam opened his mouth to retort but all the air felt like it was pulled out of his lungs as Gabriel inched his pants down and touched him.

The angel gave him a rough stroke, watching Sam's face hungrily. The hunter arched into his lover's motions, sucking in a harsh breath. Gabriel was firm and warm as he touched him, drawing his foreskin back over the head. He rubbed back and forth gently, rolling the skin up and down. 

Underneath him, Sam couldn't breathe. He closed his eyes, his mouth open, just enjoying the bolts of pleasure that were crashing through him. The angel's mouth returned to his neck, sucking at the same sensitive spot Sam had marked Gabriel the night before. He nipped up his neck, before finally sinking a gentle bite into the hunter's earlobe. 

Sam yipped, his eyes flying open. Gabriel pulled back and, smiling cheekily, leaned over and grabbed something from the side table. Sam used the pause to palm Gabriel through his boxer briefs. 

He hissed as Sam touched him, rutting shamelessly against him. Sam slid his hand up Gabriel's belly, lingering on his navel and playing with the trail of golden hair and then coming back down to pull at his waistband, exposing him. 

Gabriel wrapped his hand around Sam's cock again, warm palm slicked with cool oil, and the hunter was lost. 

The callouses on the trickster's palm felt wonderful on his flesh, the slow drag driving him mad. Gabriel was incredible with his hands, pulling sensations from the hunter that Sam knew he'd never be able to replicate. He couldn't even think, every single thought evaporating with each stroke.

He gripped the angel hard against him, biting back a loud groan as Gabriel twisted his wrist. 

“Don't hold back, Sammich,” the angel's voice was low and husky. “I want to hear you.” He repeated the motion and slid his thumb over Sam's slit. 

The hunter moaned loudly, his hips canting upwards. He had to taste him again, craved the heady undertones of coffee and bacon on his tongue. He pulled Gabriel down on top of him, kissing him soundly. It was clumsy and sloppy, teeth clacking together, Sam's large hands twisted in the damp curls on the back of Gabriel's neck. 

No matter how much he kissed him, Sam felt he couldn't get enough. Air didn't matter, he damn near forgot to breathe, until his head was swimming. 

He wasn't prepared for the added sensation of the angel's cock against his as Gabriel wrapped a hand around them both. He could have come from just that feeling alone. Hot, and slick and oh so right… 

Gabriel's pace was tortuously slow, each stroke feeling like an eternity to Sam. He gasped into the angel's mouth as Gabriel’s hand ghosted over the head. 

“Gabriel.... please,” he moaned, rocking upwards impatiently. “Faster... please.”

“As you wish, Sam.” 

Shivers went down his spine when the last syllable left the angel's lips. Sam arched as Gabriel sped up his pace, accidentally bumping his forehead against his lover's cheek in his haste. 

He choked out an apology as the pressure began to build in his stomach. Gabriel's face was buried in the crook of his shoulder, panting and moaning something into his neck.

“Samsamsamsam…” 

The warmth in his abdomen spiked as the litany fell from the angel's lips. Sam wrapped his arms loosely around the angel, his forehead resting against Gabriel’s as he cried out Sam’s name again. The hunter felt his lover’s body tighten and then relax, warm fluid splashing over their bellies. 

With a final stroke, Sam let go, pulling Gabriel in for a bruising kiss as he came apart. 

It left them both panting and sticky, but languid and sated as well. Gabriel slumped next to Sam, running a hand through his tousled golden locks. 

Sam snuck his arm around the out-of-breath angel, pulling him closer to his body. Gabriel snuggled against him, snapping his fingers to clear the mess away. 

“When can you go again?” he asked, waggling an eyebrow. Even though he’d just come, Sam could already feel Gabriel’s cock twitching against thigh. Stupid, insatiable angel libido. 

“I have to go home eventually you know…” Sam chuckled, his breath hitching slightly as the angel began to touch him all over again. “Dean will-“ 

“Less talk, more sex,” Gabriel commanded, his hands trailing lower and lower. 

“But- Dean-” 

“I’ll send him a freaking fruit basket!” 

“But… AH!” 

All thoughts of his brother were driven from his head as Gabriel demonstrated why he was known for his silver tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta, beng for putting up with me!


End file.
